Importune
by IceColdSoDa94
Summary: Importune... There was always something nagging in the back of Uphams mind. When the horror of his dreams starts to effect the world around him, Upham realises that he needs to help someone more than Private Ryan. Only, How do you help the dead? M
1. Chapter 1

_**I introduced a new concept to my story writing. Hope you enjoy ~ IceColdSoDa94**_

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Saving Private Ryan... although i wish i did :**

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His pencil scratched around upon the printed paper as Upham marked the map. Unsure as to how or why he had got here. He continued labouring however, muted and vigilant to the smallest detail of his map marking. Marking continuously throughout the small amount of days he was stationed at Omaha beach.

Three long days had passed since the blood bath of D-day and now a small base had been formed.

Upham sighed, massaging his fingers as he completed yet another map. Among the chaos and the terror, Upham's life had had no significant change apart from the distinctive change in environment; Upham had produced maps for a quantity of his young life.

In the abysmal deeps of his heart, Upham longed for excitement and adventure. He recalled joining the forces for these reasons only to wind up partaking in the humdrum in a more breakneck environment. He was sure that somewhere along the line he actually partook in an adventurous mission although he didn't trust this feeling. He was sure it was just one of his school boy like whimsies that had seeped into reality when sleep had deserted him during the cold long nights.

However, when he was able to snatch a few hours of rest they were tainted by the horror of the dream world. Dreams that would summon the deepest darkness fears that lurked in the shadows of Upham's mind and drag them into the spotlight. There they would taunt him causing him to wake suddenly, heart rushing and mind racing.

The monsters that haunted the young males mind would not be classed as the monsters you and I have known to fear, Upham's mind worked differently. Every night a young woman would haunt him. Teasing him with minuscule pieces of vital information. Upham had grown too loath the young woman that recurrently appeared in his slumber every night, He concluded that she was just a figure of his vivid imagination.

His train of thought soon came to a halt however when an authoritative voice beckoned him forward.

"I'm looking for Corporal Timothy Upham E."

Immediately Upham jumped to his feet, Scurrying over to the captain whom had just entered the small station.

"I-I'm Upham s-sir…." He stuttered, saluting in his school-boyish manner. If anything, Upham had concluded he looked more like a boy scout than a soldier. He could barely carry his equipment. He admired the soldiers and the way they would sling their packs and rifles over one shoulder lazy, trekking about in their tall muddy boots.

The tall, authoritive Captain raised a brow.

"I hear you speak French and German? You've been assigned to me, get your bags."

Upham froze "But I haven't fired a weapon since basic training sir"

Captain Miller looked at him "Did you fire the weapon in basic training?"

"Y-yes sir..."

"Well then get your gear"

Immediately Upham panicked, rushing over to his bags and in doing so knocked the sheld down. He looked up at the Captain biting his lip before grabbing in desperation for the helmets and items upon the floor.

Captain Miller chuckled "Is that a souvenir son?"

The young corporal flushed grabbing the correct helmet. "Can I take my typewriter?"

Captain Millers face dropped as he held up a small pencil. Nervously Upham burbled on about his book to the Captain as he walked off to retrieve his gear.

Something nagged at him in the back of his mind, he wasn't quiet sure what had come over him… but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Salutations everyone, I'm back with another chapter.... Please give critique but not too harsh... a lack confidence in my writing and please review!**

**Just another short chapter featuring my OC Henederson. **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.**

**~ IceColdSoDa94**

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When finally collecting said items for his treacherous mission, Upham nervously followed the captain to meet the new people he'd be working with. He shuddered, grimacing at the thought. Upham had gained a large fear of meeting new people, ever since his school days from when he was teased for showing great intelligence. Heck, even his mind mocked him. Testing and teasing him with disturbing thoughts and images… The young male shook his head abruptly, trying to dismiss all unwanted thoughts, he felt uneasy enough as it was.

He'd often pondered upon the nature of the soldiers; at one stage he'd concluded that they were all mostly hardened veterans, the type that could catch bullets between their teeth and do death deifying stunts with a manner of heroic grace upon them, completing each task with ease. Although now he knew this simply wasn't true however, being stationed at Omaha he had came across thousands upon thousands of new soldiers everyday, observing there child-like natures as they scurried to and though huddling and relaxing with there friends and colleges. They were not as he imagined them, big god like men who oozed cool and power. No, what he saw were normal looking everyday men who sat uneasy and confused, tearful and religious… he'd seen it all. In fact, the men had fascinated him so he decided to tribute a book to them.

It'd started off during one of the cold nights at Omaha, he'd sat in one of the bomb creatures placing together a few notes and illustrations from the back of his mind. Days had passed and before he'd knew it a petit book began to form of which he took the greatest care and pride in. He wondered what his new team mates would think of said book and if they'd mock him or praise him….

He paused looking at the men sitting in front of him. They sat, glancing up at him before talking and smoking among them selves. Upham looked at his captain in confusion, the men he saw before him were nothing but the humdrum. He sighed suddenly feeling the child-like magic drain from his bones. The exhilarating feeling that he'd once thought dwelled among these people and mission seemed to be pushing up daisy's, reality had struck him hard… he sighed sitting down next too one of the men. He realised the only thing that now dwelled was the grim reality of war and like thousands of other men he disliked it, strongly.

Feeling rejected and rather a pacifist, Upham's beady eyes wondered about the men he had just encountered. His eyes loomed over the sketch pad of the male sitting next to him, observing him doodle upon the paper. Upham watched in awe as the soldier sketched his peers, drawing them in a rather comical and cartoonish style. Amused by this Upham let out a small chuckle, suddenly the soldier froze for a second, noticing Upham's curious eyes, and slammed the sketch pad shut.

The red headed soldier turned to him giving him a look of salutation. Upham's eye widened in surprise, he'd certainly not been expecting anything of a friendly nature… he was expecting something upon the lines of hostility.

"Upham ain't it?" spoke the Red-head casually passing Upham the sketch book with a flourish.

"Y-yes… and you are?" Upham sung, clasping the sketch book with caution and gently opening it. It was a battered looking black book that when opened revealed a gold mine of glorious still-life and comical doodles.

"Henderson" said the British soldier holding out his left hand.

Upham paused, confused as to why a British soldier had became lost upon the Americans and also a little taken back by the mans friendliness and placed the book gently on his lap before reaching his hand out to shake Henderson's.

"Pleasure to meet you sir"

Henderson chuckled, Upham sat confused and hurt.

"No need to be prim n' proper ere son, a simple watcha' would a done nicely"

Smiling nervously Upham let go of Henderson's hand, proud he'd managed to make at least one friend.

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	3. Chapter 3

**The belated chapter three! I apolgise for the cheese xD**

**DISCLAIMER: Fortunately I don't own Saving Private Ryan :P Although I wish I did!**

**Henderson & Hawkings are my _OC'S_ not offcail characters! **

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Flicking through the pages of Henderson's sketch book, Upham struggled to maintain focus on each piece as the jeep rocked passing over debris and bumping in pot-holes. The squad remained unphazed by the vivid movement however as they sat leisurely chatting among themselves. Every so often one would glance at Upham and make a mumbled remark of which said remark was flowed by laughter.

Upham scowled as he flicked through more pages. He smiled as he noticed a comical drawing of who he believed was called Reiben. Upham had concluded this couple of minuets ago by eavesdropping from where he sat in the jeep; He was in perfect earshot of the squads chatter. Amused by his findings he smiled to himself continuing to flick through pages. Suddenly Upham froze.

Wide eyes scanned over his findings. A sketch of a girl. Not just any girl, _the_ girl. She starred back at him from the page with her cold graphite eyes. Stomach churning he examined the sketch searching for a date or title. Nothing.

Upham's breathing quickened as she became increasingly more familiar. The girl remained frozen, her large graphite eyes starring back at him. The girl in question wasn't grotesque but she wasn't particularly beautiful either. She was rather simple looking, long straight hair pulled back in a scruffy pony tail, a rather petit figure… her only saving grace were her facial features. In fact if it wasn't for the girl's big eyes and delicate lips she'd be considered by most men unattractive.

Suddenly the jeep jolted lifting Upham upward and knocking him forward face first. Upham grimaced as his head hit the cold hard metal bench; he rubbed his head choking back tears as he looked upward at a squad member. A tall lanky man looked down at him, his fair hair ruffled as he clung to what appeared to be a Springfield Sniper rifle. Upham chuckled nervously "Hi there…"

The Sniper remained silent.

"I'm Tim..." mumbled Upham "Tim Upham… You are?"

"My name is Jackson" The Sniper said in a deep southern drawl.

"Jackson…?" Questioned Upham.

"Jackson." Jackson frowned before spitting over Upham's head. "And that all you need to know, boy."

Upham shifted awkwardly back to his seat.

"Getting acquainted, eh Jackson?" The medic sitting next to Jackson piped up stifling his chuckles as he did so. Jackson smiled slowly shaking his head as if to say _you've got to be kidding me!_

The Medic appeared a pleasant looking man. His height could have passed him off as a scout if it wasn't for his mature yet soft features. He smiled at Upham.

"Hello Tim! I'm Wade" He said.

Upham beamed, at least two people so far had been pleasant. "I'm Upham!" he squeaked.

Wade raised his eyebrows before pulling a lighter out his pocket and lighting his cigarette.

"You want-"

Upham shook his head. "No I don't-"

Wade chuckled "Ah. I see not yet, eh? We're all that way at first ya know? Being fresh meat n' all. "

"Fresh meat…?"

"New soldiers"

"Oh..." Upham paused "Can I ask a favour of you?"

Wade puffed out his cigarette smoke. "You can try"

He handed Wade the sketch book. Wade nodded "Oh! You're looking at Henderson's sketches? Remarkable aren't they? I'd like to learn how to dra-"

"Who's this sketch of?"

Wade paused looking down at the page. His eyes widened as he looked at the image. Jackson shifted next to him looking uneasily at Wade. Wade continued to stare at the picture almost as if remembering something. Suddenly he lugged on his cigarette and shut the sketch book slowly.

"I-I…." He muttered before snapping "Why do you want to know?"

Upham gulped "I'm sorry! I was just curious... I think I've seen her before"

"You haven't." interrupted Jackson his voice a little more rushed than usual. "And this is none of your business either"

Wade passed Henderson back his sketch pad, a vacant look in his warm eyes before snubbing out his cigarette and tossing it over the back of the jeep.

"When did you draw that, Henderson?" he mumbled.

Henderson perked up. "What? Oh… ages ago. When we found that wine in the cellar I think… Am I right?"

Henderson turned to Upham "What did you want to quiz me about then mate?"

"Who's the-"

"Roxanne Hawkings" Wade and Henderson both said in unison before frowning at one another. Upham looked at Jackson doubtfully who shook his head.

Upham gulped. _Who on earth was she? _He thought.


End file.
